Hic Sunt Dracones
by obscure.innuendos
Summary: Transliterated form the original Latin,“HC SVNT DRACONES”,Here be dragons is a phrase used to denote dangerous or unexplored territories,in imitation of the medieval practice of putting sea serpents and other mythological creatures in blank areas of maps.
1. Reviews response page

(Updated as necessary. This is the reviews response page, since I couldn't think of a better way to get back to the people that were nice enough to comment, if you want to get a hold of me more privately, just pm me.)

C_ - Brilliant Start. Can't wait to read more._

Thank you very much, I hope to not disappoint.

Stokley_ - Hmm Effy and Naomi? Interesting start... I like the fantasy vibe mixing with the modern a bit, not a lot to take away from the story but just enough to give it an updated feel. I can't wait to see where you're taking this!_

It's going to take a little bit to really get the plot going, as there has to be a lot set up to make it work and make sense, but I hope it'll be worth the wait. And there won't be any Effy/Naomi if that's what you were asking, they just have a very close platonic friendship. The main paring will be Naomily, but how that happens won't be revealed until later.

WOW!! - _I really enjoyed reading this. It's an interesting concept, and I'm excited to see where it's heading. On your writing; it's brilliant, complex without confusing the reader, and it delivers great imagery at the same time. This fic is great so far._

Moarr!!: D

xx

Thank you, on the writing front I often find it hard to balance between overly descriptive and overly simplistic, so it's nice to hear that I'm doing a good job. As for the concept, I think I may've made the plot a little over complicated, but it' all still being written, so I suppose I can adjust as necessary. I'm also trying to make more time to write, so it won't have to be months in-between updates (I'm working on getting it down to weekly maybe), but still have it be good-ish writing, looking over the first two chapter I can see some minor mistakes.


	2. Plot synopsis

**Title**: _Hic Sunt Dracones_

AN: Transliterated form the original Latin, "HC SVNT DRACONES", _Here be dragons_ is a phrase used to denote dangerous or unexplored territories, in imitation of the medieval practice of putting sea serpents and other mythological creatures in blank areas of maps. – (Wikipedia and other sources).

This was also done to keep ancient nosey-explorer types out of lands that the rulers and owners of didn't want traversed or explored (for various, _and sometimes sinister_, reasons). But did they think of those who would be excited, or even enticed, by the prospect, who perhaps _looked_ for the phrase, or a sea serpent whenever they picked up a map? There have always been individuals that sought danger, men and women who wished to come face to face with the _Dracones_, face to face with their 'maker', their own mortality.

This is a story about one of those individuals. Someone who, in search of her next thrill or challenge, found something a little different—_something she never even knew she was looking for_.

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(Shit summary)

Emily is kept in a castle by her evil mother due to an event that occurred because of her gaydom, guarded by her shape shifting twin Katie who will often take the form of many fearsome creatures, such as bears, leopards, or dragons (ect.) to fulfill her duty. Sir Naomi is a young knight (about 20) living in the place with her childhood friend Effy (Naomi was poor and children at the school, or whatever learning intuition existed back then, bullied Naomi because she was dressed funny, Effy stood up for her and they've been friends ever since). Elizabeth, the princess-sorceress ––and little sister of the universally feared and worshiped Prince Anthony (Sir Tony) a wizard-knight (particularly impressive, only a few in the world exist due to the time and skill it take too master both) ––learns of Lady Emily's imprisonment and informs her friend Sir Naomi of it, because Naomi is known/infamous for four things; her love for tilting at windmills metaphorically, her lady lovin' ways, her stubbornness , and wielding a multitude of sharp edged things with infinite skill, including sword, axe, glaive, dagger, and tongue. Naomi determinedly sets off with Effy, Sir Anthony's old squire Sidney (Sid), court jester/acrobat/trouble maker James of Cewkville (pronounced _cook vill_, the village is often referred to as Cook township or just Cook, and the jester's name is also shortened to James of Cook or simply Cook), and weather forecaster/ astronomer/meteorologist Cassandra ("she's always had her head up in the clouds, that one"). Along the way the motley crew meets many strange beings and people, such as a peculiar mystic from Africa and his odd but affectionate fiancé, Sir Frederick— a mopey knight, turned blacksmith in order to support his sick father and fame hungry sister, aspiring illusions/mathematician Jonah, and dancer Maximillian.


	3. Or should I just get along with myself?

"But you always hold your head up high

Cause it's a long, long, long way down

// You better run for the hills before they burn

Listen to the sound of the world

And watch it turn

The Killers – This River Is Wild

http : // www . mediafire .com / ? mf2z mwtdayd

(REMOVE ALL SPACES INOREDER TO MAKE THE LINKS FUNCTIONAL)

The large stone room was silent as the polishing cloth slid slowly over the blade for the fifth time in 20 minutes, the early morning sun reflecting off of the mirror-like surface of the tempered steel. With a practiced flick of the wrist, it soared hilt-over-blade through the air in a perfect arc, only to be caught halfway down in its decent. All was not well in the world of Sir Naomi Campbell, she had been cooped up for weeks in the castle, the smell of mildew and layers of dust making her itch to get on her horse and go do _something_, just ride until she couldn't see the stone peaks of the palace, 'till they faded into the horizon and she felt like she could breathe again. But duty to the crown bound her to the royal lands until further notice. She had sworn an oath when she accepted her shield to honor the crown and follow any order it gave. But to her great discontent, the crown thought that she could best serve it from within the imposing walls of the palace, sitting on her laurels unless a call for help arose. Frustration squeezed her lungs, pushing air out of her nostrils. She jerked her neck sharply, wiping her bangs out of her eyes, allowing her to examine the dagger that lay within her grasp. She turned it over slowly, scanning the expanse of its blade for a fleck of rust or an imperfection. Despite finding none, she picked up the previously discarded polishing cloth —about to run it over the dagger _for the sixth time_— when a stiff knock on her chamber door called for her attention. She placed the dagger back in its leather sheath on her belt, wondering who would be up this early on a Saturday. The deep blue of the palace servant's uniform answered that question.

"Yes, what is it?"

"Sir Naomi, Princess Elizabeth has sent a summons for you, it was quite urgent."

She eyed the runner for a moment or two (her previous frustrations still festering) allowing him to squirm a bit under her cool gaze, before responding with a curt nod.

"Her highness' message is received. You are dismissed."

The message runner gave a slight bow, and all but bolted from her doorway (she had a bit of a reputation with the palace staff regarding early morning visits, not that she would ever strike someone who didn't deserve it, but her temper –typically unchecked when she was forced into consciousness before 8:00— often sharpened her tongue to lethal degrees). She closed the heavy wooden door, her mind awhirl. What could Effy possibly want from her this early? Effy had always been an early riser, but normally she was very accommodating about Naomi's need to wake up in her own time. The runner had said something about it being urgent. Perhaps it was a message of distress from another village? Things had been pretty calm for the past month or so, there were more knights on patrol through the rural villages, but humanity being what it was, the vast majority of the kingdom still had issues with kidnapping, murder, robbery, and rape, there had even been a couple of monster sightings (mostly dragons) but in all likelihood it was probably just a shape shifter trying to scare squatters and poachers off their lands , rather than an actual feral one, though there _had_ been a slight increase in their numbers due to shifters getting stuck and eventually forgetting their morality. But that was one of the drawbacks of being a shifter, when they inhabit an animal's shape, they inhabit it mind body and soul. The more ferocious or wild the animal was, the stronger their urges were. The shifter had to be sure that their will was stronger than the beast's, or it would overpower them their mind losing dominance of the body which would become the beast's, the mind of shifter weakening and eventually fading into nonexistence. That was why the crown employed very few shifters on their sorcery staff, and because the best shifters were strong willed and as stubborn as an ox. Naomi had met a few, and she had been impressed by their skill, but nonetheless, didn't envy them or desire their power, the burden was far too great.

In her musings, she had wandered over to her window, the sun was almost fully risen, _might as well allow Effy to answer her questions_. She stripped off her casual tunic and slacks, tossing them in a pile in the corner. She selected a blue blouse. Effy had picked it out for her on one of her 'ambassadory' trips (her term for when her parents wanted to travel and used the excuse of peace and goodwill, but generally only romped about and bought useless items) saying it brought out her eyes, Naomi had snorted and rolled her eyes at the time, but secretly she was touched. The craftsmanship was top notch and it was a truly beautiful garment. It had cost Effy a good bit of gold (most likely form her own personal coffers), but Effy had dismissed her questions about money with a casual wave of the hand, retorting that she had more money than she would ever need, and that had been that. She looked through her open dresser door, searching for something suitable, _her black dress pants would offset the blouse nicely_. She usually just threw on whatever items of clothing were the closest, most times without even looking in the mirror as she brushed her hair. But she was feeling excited and particularly indulgent of Effy today. Her curiosity piqued (even somewhat hopeful that she might get out of the castle for a little while) she decided she might as well put some effort into her attire since Effy often tried to help her out fashion-wise, she could be accommodating if it meant Effy would help her break out for a couple days at least. Again fully clothed including her belt, freshly cleaned and polished dagger (all of her gear was equally clean, testament to her severe boredom), and her best pair of soft leather boots (well fitted and perfect for running). She set off for Effy's room.

The majority of the palace was still slumbering, _the lucky bastards, _Naomi's sleep had been sparse and fitful at best, her desire to roam making her restless. Naomi moved with sure footing and long strides (another advantage of her height) that ate up the distance, and in a relatively short amount of time (aided by the fact the hallways were mostly empty, except for the occasional servant or runner) she was almost at Effy's room. She slowed and turned the final corner, the gentle slap of her boots on the ancient stone resounding in her ears. She reached Effy's door, knocking three times in quick succession. After waiting for a short period and not receiving any form of acknowledgment, she pressed her ear to the door. Hearing no sign of moment from the other side, she pulled out a delicate silver key. Stamped with an N, the loops and whorls that shaped it turned it into something beautiful, instead of simply functional, it was worn smooth in some places and slightly dented in others, but from over-use rather than carelessness. She placed the key in the lock directly under the handle and turned, the gears clanked in a well-memorized sequence, and the door swung open with little resistance. Pocketing the key again, she breathed in the familiar scent of the room and felt herself relax by degrees. Her eyelids fluttered and eventually closed, not entirely of her own volition, before she forced them open again. Re-pocketing the key, she gazed fondly at the room, remembering the evenings and days that she had spent within its four walls, the nights spent wrapped up in Effy's arms and swaddled in a multitude of blankets and pillows soft enough to rival the clouds. The first night she had spent between those sheets had also been the first day she had met Effy….


	4. I never did getalong with everybody else

(Naomi's pov age 5)

Her small hands met the ground hard enough to cause some minor pain, but were thankfully angled in a way to best break her fall. Some of her knuckles had been spilt in the tussle and the sudden impact made her wince. When she was once again vertical, she brought her arm up to her nose. She had felt it get kicked somewhere on the way down. With the ginger application of her fingers around her nose she deduced that it was bleeding but probably not broken , but she would have to mostly breathe from her mouth for a couple of day, as she could already feel it swelling, each dull thud of her pulse making it throb even more. As Naomi wiped her bloody hands on her pants –they were already coated in mud and rather pungent street muck— she realized that the crowd had backed away quieted (the only sound being the noise of the carts and other various forms of traffic, and fervent hushed whispers, only somewhat muffled by the hands of the whisperers). She cast a glance in the general direction of the excited crowd and had to do a double take, she didn't remember getting hit on the head but she must've, because there was no way what she was seeing was real. There, stood not a man-and-a half's length away from herself, was the young princess of the realm. She rubbed her eyes, but to her intense disbelief, the image of the little girl decked out in finery remained in front of her, plain as day. She was flanked by two burly men with longswords on their hips (from their posture Naomi would wager a coin she didn't have that they were out of uniform soldiers) their eyes seemed to take everything in, not flitting around like little birds or craning their necks in an obvious way, but simply surveying and assessing the world around them, categorizing everything into _threat, non-threat, _and _potential threat. _But inevitably her attention was again drawn to the young girl that they guarded so fiercely, she was talking to the leader of the merry little gang that made a hobby of making her life miserable, _Laufeia, _she spoke calmly but her eyes told a different story, they flashed with a tightly restrained rage that was potent enough to kill a man. Naomi shuffled closer, straining to hear what was being said.

"We was jus' 'avin some fun wit the lass."

"Well, as fun as it must have been for _you, _she did not seem to have been enjoying herself."

"Nah, nah, your highness, 'twas all good-natured, jus sum horseplay and the like, real friendly and uh congenial or sommat."

"I don't think that the _lass_ found having her blood spilled on these begrimed streets to be a _good natured_ and _congenial_ activity. Nor do I think that ten against one is fair odds."

"With all due respect, your highness, what d'you care if we play wiv the little rat or not? She jus' street scum, aint got no ma no more, she don't even know her da, and she jus sulks around and looks for scraps. It's well annoying n' pathetic."

Naomi's fingers dug sharply into her palms, little rivulets of blood welling up from under her nails, _say what you will about her_, _but_ _no one got to talk about her mum like that._ The princess seemed to notice her practically shaking with rage, and simply nodded at her whilst offering a conspiratorial smile, before turning back to Laufeia

"Because she is worth more than some _pathetic_ mongrel who preys on someone weaker than them, you little licentious piece of filth, and I do believe that you and you're dundering minions will trouble her no more. _Do I make myself clear_?"

The withering look that she directed to Laufeia was further enhanced by the two armed men stepping forward in unison. Laufeia's face drained of color and she saw him keep himself from recoiling in any obvious manner. He was a rather simple and prideful creature, but he knew when he'd been beat.

"Yessum."

The hilts of the swords were in hand lightning fast, not yet drawn, more of a statement.

"I uh— I mean, yes your highness."

"Better. Now vacate my presence immediately."

Laufeia gave a quick bow, just barely deep enough. He practically tripped over himself to get back to his mates, all of them too wide-eyed with shock to chastise him for running away. Though Naomi hadn't much room to talk considering her jaw almost touched the ground. The princess swiveled to face her, and almost immediately afterwards, her lips quirked into a half smile that actually made her look her age (likely not much more than Naomi's own five and a half years).

"Forsooth, are you really hungry enough to attempt to catch flies?"

Naomi sputtered, unable to think of an appropriate response, the first time in her short life that she was at a loss for words. But she quickly realized that it was rhetorical and in good humor since the little smile that adorned her lips had not vacated, and all the venom was gone from her face and voice. Nonetheless, she felt like she had to say something, and after attempting an awkward (and rather belated) curtsey with the edges of her tunic, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"No, but I haven't eaten in two days."

"Well, we'll just have to see what we can do about that." An open hand accompanied the offer but instead of grasping it like she was expected too, Naomi took a hasty step backwards.

"_What are you doing_?" the words leapt from Naomi's tongue faster than her feet had moved.

"_We_ are going to a healer, get some food into you, and—" she crinkled her nose "get _you_ into a bath." She reached again for Naomi's arm.

"But I'm _dirty_" Naomi backpeddled a few steps out of reach.

"I am aware, I still posses all of my senses, and I _did_ mention a bath, and probably some new clothes, what you're currently wearing can't be salvaged. I'm afraid it'll have to be burned. Now come _on._ "

She managed to grab Naomi's arm and began to lead her to some unknown destination. Naomi glanced down and saw the filth from her cloths rubbing off on the silky garment that adorned the princesses' frame, the muck and the blood (happily not all her own, thanks to a couple of lucky blows) marking the dress sleeve permanently, and perhaps that was a metaphor for her own existence. She had started out pure once, it hadn't lasted long. She had been stained by the sorrows and injustices of life, but (_foolishly_) she had retained some hope that it wasn't an indelible mark, that she could escape the life that she had been born into, that she wouldn't fall in love with a man, conceive an unwanted child, and realize just how far love truly got you. No, she had hoped that she could make a difference in the world and help people (she hadn't determined how yet, just that she desired it more than anything else) or at least help herself. But she had been doomed from the start, living day-to-day without the knowledge of when her next meal would be, or if she would have a bed to return to (she had long since given up hope that it would be clean). She didn't even have anyone to blame, her mother did her best, perhaps she could blame her for not loving a better (or richer) man, or she could try to blame her father, but that was a rather pointless exercise, she didn't know his face, his voice, or even his surname. So in the end it put her right back where she started, cold, hungry and alone in the world, except for her mother, a mother who loved her more than anything, and worked herself to death, _quite literally._ She toiled long hours and always gave Naomi more food when they managed to get some, even when she fell ill, Naomi hadn't even noticed until it was too late, not that it would have made a difference, they couldn't afford a healer or that medicine it would have taken, all she could do was watch and try to make her mother comfortable as she was reclaimed by the forces that made her. On her deathbed she had apologized for the life that she had provided for her daughter, and made her promise to still love if she could, to not give up hope and cherish happiness whenever and wherever she found it, Naomi had agreed through an onslaught of tears that made it impossibly hard to speak, it was a promise she knew she'd never be able to keep, but she made it anyways so that her mother could have some form of peace. Gina had died soon after that and Naomi made her way to the local church, she told them the location of the dingy hovel that they had been staying in and watched silently as they took the body to burn it or bury it, depending on the resources that they had at their disposal. There was no dignity in death, and with the poor they didn't even feign it, they didn't dress it up with fancy words or actions, they just took care of business, leaving ashes or a mass grave of jumbled bodies, and moved on. But the rich, the _needy_, _insecure_, rich, had to be coddled and told that everything would be alright, and that there was some sort of greater purpose or reason to death. Pathetic really. Well no, that would be her, dress in dirty odds and ends, plagued by agonizing hunger pains, picked on by brutes for looking or acting funny, and worst of all, still mourning the woman who had brought her into this miserable existence, even months after her passing (she would say _untimely_, but that would be redundant. Had misfortune even happened at a good time?). A sharp tug on her arm brought her out of her own head.

"Hello? Can you hear me in there?"

"Sorry, your highness. Just got distracted."

"Effy, please. Anyways, I asked where you were staying and if you needed to pick anything up before we see to your war wounds."

"I've been staying here and there, mostly 'round the fountain since its covered 'n they drain it at night, but I haven't anything to my name 'cept for the person attached to it, the woes in my heart, and the clothes you're so intent on burning."

"That's not too much worse than I had expected, with the state you're in. And why were those boys roughing you up again?"

"A'cus they called my mum a whore an I tole 'em that she never spent a coin she didn't legally earn, and that they shouldn't disrespect the women that they would soon be payin' since they wouldn't see nothing like that any other way."

That caused a mischievous looking grin to flit quickly across Effy's face. "Very well put, how long have you been in school?"

"Not long, maybe a couple of months. My mum enrolled me jus' before she got sick. What were _you_ doing there, if you don't mind the likes of me inquiring?"

"I don't. I was hoping to attend myself actually. I finally convinced my father to let me sing up and he only agreed to it if I brought them—" she motioned to the stoic faced sword-bearers walking far enough behind them to appear unobtrusive in their conversation, but close enough to act quickly should a situation arise "with me, and even that took weeks to manage. You can meet him actually, since he's home at the moment, I could use your help convincing him that this blood isn't mine." Naomi balked.

"I can't talk to the _king!_"

"Don't be foolish, Naomi. Of course you can, you're already talking with me."

Naomi felt rather sheepish, but pressed onwards regardless. "But he's the king."

"You needn't remind me of my father's title, he does it often enough in arguments. Now I won't hear anymore from you until you've seen a healer, all of this blood loss is making you talk nonsense."

Naomi was about to insist that blood loss had nothing to do with it (she wasn't even woozy), and that a fatherless (now motherless as well) whelp had absolutely no business talking to royalty when suddenly Effy emitted a rather loud exclamation.

She had been swept up by the body guard and Naomi didn't determine why until she was scooped up as well by the other, just as an arrow whizzed past her head. Naomi felt herself being thrown into some sort of rucksack-sling contraption on the man's muscled back. She heard the low hum of a fast flying arrow pass just above herself, near enough to just miss grazing the guard's cheek. As both men picked up speed she caught sight of Effy as her carrier was reaching for the crossbow strapped to his back, already cocked and loaded. Only her head and hands peaked out from the coarse sling, apparently designed for just this situation, despite her current undignified position (rather unsuited for royalty) her eyes were alight with some sort of masochistic excitement, apparent _pleased_ to be in mortal peril. If the princess were any other person off the street, Naomi would have guessed that they were insane, and would have said as much to the individual in question. Instead she quelled the desire, and looked on as Effy laughed with maniacal glee as a third arrow shattered against a wall just left of the quartet. Effy's carrier responded with the crossbow and Naomi heard the assailant answering death scream as he fell from whatever building he had been perched upon. Turing around in her current transportation she caught sight of a carriage just a little ways off, they continued towards it.


End file.
